This and That
by reraimu
Summary: What if Wendy had been a boy named William? SLASH. m/m, gay, whatever. Yes, I went there.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: What if Wendy had been a boy named William? SLASH. **

**Tweekerz: Peter Pan needed some Slash up in here.**

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><p>The nursery was an utter mess. Shirts and nightgowns were draped over dressers and twisted between coverlets, toys strewn across the floor in a mishmash of wood and faded color. A young boy named William sat at the head of his bed, his back pressed against his pillow while a rosy-cheeked little boy, his brother, sat alongside him. William was a pre-teen, about to enter his 7th year in his studies. With a crown full of fine hazel hair and blue eyes, he still looked like a young child, not like the other boys at school whose voices were cracking and changing pitch. He was a child teetering between childhood and adulthood, an awkward mess of a pre-teen who feared to grow up.<p>

And to further add to his averseness, his mother and father had pulled him aside one dreary morning and explained to him that when he turned 13 the following month, they would move him from the nursery and settle him into his own room across the corridor. The prospect of living by himself in his own room was rather daunting. He would miss the security of the nursery along with his vivacious little brother. He would miss telling him stories and tucking him into bed while playing pirate-ship as they looked for buried treasure underneath their mattresses. He didn't dare tell his parents what he thought about their verdict.

There would be etiquette lessons, grand balls held in lavish mansions, and most importantly, beautiful young ladies. William wrinkled his nose at the thought. Most boys his age welcomed their futures, which more or less consisted of courting women, business ventures, and owning a large estate somewhere in the city. William still considered himself to be a boy and nothing more. He didn't care for girls and riches, at least not yet, and as long as he still had his boyhood, he would hold onto it as long as possible. He had a month to play and frolic with his brother. He only had a single month to remain a boy.

"And so Hook slashed at Peter, nearly nicking him across the face," William exclaimed, trying to distract himself from the unwarranted thoughts lurking about in his head. He brandished his wooden play sword before him, jutting it three times through the air. He had a black eye patch tethered to his head, the flap covering his left eye. Nathan, who was still a toddler of three, giggled and widened his eyes at his older brother's actions. The toddler twirled his own wooden sword, mimicking William's story. William had told the tale of Peter Pan and his wondrous adventures so many times it was practically engraved in Nathan's mind.

When the sun folded into the sky and the stars poked their luminous little heads out from up above, William would gather his younger brother into the nursery and proceed to weave a tale of swash-buckling pirate battles and savage Indians. Nathan would get so enraptured with William's seamless stories, that as soon as the tale came to its end, William would find his brother fast asleep. He would then pick him up and tuck him into his own bed.

On this particular night, William was retelling the story of how the dreadful Captain Hook had captured Princess Tiger Lily, and Peter being brave and daring as he usually was, had swooped down to save her, all the while fending Hook off with nothing but a dagger. By the end of the story, William looked down and laughed, gently prodding Nathan's slumbering form by his leg.

William leaned over to scoop little Nathan in his arms. He then traipsed his way across the room. As soon as he got to Nathan's bed, he lowered the slumbering boy down onto the mattress and raised the blankets over his small body. Once his brother was tucked in, William proceeded to blow out the oil lamps that hung suspended on hooks about the walls. A yawn escaped his lips as he stretched his arms out in front of him. He then trudged towards his welcoming bed, where he sat himself down upon the mattress and lowered his head until it rested on his pillow. He shuffled the comforter over himself and reveled in the warmth the blankets provided, and with one final yawn, William closed his eyes and let sleep overcome him.

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><p><strong>Oh man, please don't stone me OTL anyway, review!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

William awoke with a start.

He sat up straight in his bed, his heart hammering against his chest. He had heard something, he didn't know what exactly, but he had heard it. It had been a faint sound, as if something were rolling across the floor. The floorboards had definitely creaked, and as William peered across the shadowy depths of the nursery, rays of moonlight poking through, he realized that the window was thrown wide open. The lacy curtains that hung suspended over the top of the frame were gently billowing amid the cool night breeze, the frosty chill of the air numbing his cheeks. He was absolutely certain that he had closed the window earlier in the day. It hadn't been opened since.

"Hello."

William let out a chaste gasp, reflexively slapping his hand over his mouth. It wouldn't do if he accidentally woke father from his sleep. The man would only growl at him to go to bed. William shakily peered about the room once more, not noticing anything out of place. There was definitely someone inside his room- that voice certainly didn't belong to his brother.

"Who are you?"

And then,** he** appeared. William immediately rocketed towards the opposite end of his bed, nearly teetering off the edge. His head accidentally banged against the wall and he gave a slight cry, closing his eyes shut. There was a boy on his bed.

A boy. On his bed.

William peered from underneath the curtain of his bangs. Scraggly layers of leaves and twigs were strung about the boy's lean body, looping around his shoulder and thinly covering his torso. At first, William thought the leaves would surely fall off and blow away, but upon closer inspection, he realized the leaves were the boy's _actual_ clothing. William parted his lips, his brow furrowing as his thoughts raced turbulently about in his head. The boys from school certainly didn't dress like this creature. The boy's skin was sun-kissed and tanned, scars riddling his body like freckles. Some scars were faint and barely noticeable, and some where quite large and stained white. William grimaced as he noticed the boy's fingernails—they were caked with dirt, and smudges of dried mud were streaked across his chest and shoulders like warrior paint. If the boy's upper part of his body was this filthy, he imagined the boy's lower half would be even more so.

William pressed his back against the wall when the strange youth suddenly tilted his head and shot him a wry smile. William's eyes opened in fright. The boy continued to grin, his smile beguiling in every possible way, white teeth glinting amid the opaque darkness. The boy looked to be around William's age, with a head full of layered blond hair that stuck out haphazardly in all directions, willowy tufts framing his narrow face. Glittering green eyes stared back at him.

"Peter?" William whispered, then mentally cursed and bit his tongue. He had never met this boy before, so why did that name come to mind? Why was the name Peter all that William could think about at that very moment?

"Yes?" the boy queried, a crooked grin broadening across his face. He leaned in further, flaxen wisps of hair brushing across his forehead. "Do I know you?"

"Are you…Peter? Peter Pan?" William whispered breathlessly. He averted his eyes and anchored them to the little wooden clock hanging above the door frame. William briefly shut his eyes, silently cursing himself. He was being utterly ridiculous—this boy couldn't be Peter. Peter pan was a myth, imaginary, a fairytale! He was created from the minds of children strictly for entertainment purposes. It was all a fantasy, albeit a wonderful one. This odd boy couldn't possibly be _the_ Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?" William blurted, his fingers gouging into his pillow. Should he wake his brother? Nathan was his first priority after all; he didn't want his little brother getting hurt.

"Why, you already know my name!" the boy laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing. His laughter reminded William of the wind; light and airy, as free as anything could ever be.

"You are not Peter," William muttered, shooting a curt glare at the boy. He didn't particularly like being laughed at. "You're just a strange boy who somehow managed to sneak into my room. Are you a thief?"

"No!" the boy instantly quipped, placing his hands on his thighs. "Of course not—pirates are thieves, not I!" William gulped. The boy's countenance seemed to change. Blond eyebrows were drawn together, jade eyes turning steely and grave. The boy leaned in further, lips set into a paper-thin line. "I am not a thief."

"Neither are you Peter Pan!" William nearly cried, thoroughly exasperated. He was tired and sleepy and he just wanted to get back to bed. Perhaps he should scream for help? If his parents didn't hear him, the servants surely would. "If you don't leave this room in the next 10 seconds, I will- ."

"I'll show you."

"What?" William stilled, arching a brow. He watched as the boy sprang up from the bed and stood up, steadily bouncing up and down on the mattress. From the new angle, William couldn't help but gulp. The boy leaned down and offered his hand, wriggling his fingers in front of William's face. Said boy grimaced and backed away as much as his bed allowed.

"What do you want?" William squeaked, shuffling to the side, away from the boy's direct view. The brazen youth merely smirked and followed William, his arm still outstretched.

"I will prove to you that I am Peter."

William only gaped up at the boy. The stranger let out a small scoff, impatiently waving his hand.

"N-no," William breathed, shaking his head. "Whatever it is you want, no." Before William could even blink, the boy suddenly leaned down and bent his knees, resting his weight on the heels of his feet. He grabbed both of William's hands and stared directly at him, eyes bright and glinting.

"Trust me," the tenacious boy whispered, blond bangs shielding his forehead, and at those words, William heard the faint chime of bells.

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><p><strong>:D Please review!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Tweekerz: thank you to those who reviewed! I'm really enjoying typing this out, seriously. **

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><p>The noise sounded like the ring of a dozen little bells billowing through the wind, the light and dainty sound permeating the noiseless night. William didn't even protest when he was suddenly heaved from his sitting position on the bed and made to stand directly across from the foreign youth, their combined weight causing the mattress to creak on its springs. At this new vantage point, William noted that the other was slightly taller. The strange lad still had a grip on William's hands, tanned calloused palms meshing against smooth, creamy skin.<p>

"What are you going to do?" William whispered, trying to wriggle his fingers away. The taller boy didn't let go.

"Tink."

"Tink?" William queried, arching a brow. "What is- ."

William was cut off by that bizarre chiming sound again, the sound of bells, and when he glimpsed to his right, William nearly gasped. A miniscule ball of golden light zipped across the nursery, leaving a trail of glitter after its wake. The ball of light halted and perched on the foreign lad's shoulder, shining and shimmering as it bobbed up and down. The sound of bells was even clearer than before, and if things couldn't get any stranger, the boy began conversing with it.

This was strange—no, this was beyond strange. Was it normal for people to suddenly start conversing with balls of light? Despite that notion, William found it difficult to grasp that there was a floating ball of light perched on the boy's shoulder, and from what William could see, it seemed to have some sort of intelligence, for the ball would shake from side to side to state its displeasure, and bob up and down in agreement.

"Okay I believe you," William gulped, taking a cautious step backward. William didn't know too many people who could talk to strange glowing orbs. At William's statement, the boy quickly turned his head and locked eyes with William. The blond then tersely shook his head.

"It'll be more fun if I _show_ you," the boy, Peter, said through a lofty smile, emerald eyes glittering. When William didn't respond, Peter resumed his "conversation" with the twinkling ball of light.

"Please," Peter pleaded. The light swayed from side to side, glitter falling down and sticking to the blonde's clothing. The leaves that were wrapped about Peter's body began to shimmer.

"Come on Tink, just a little," Peter began again, smiling. His jade eyes alighted with mirth as a thought came to mind. "I'll play a game with you when we get home, just you and me." The ball of light seemed to hover for a second or two, as if contemplating Peter's offer, before it began bobbing up and down in rapid succession. The blond nodded once, and the ball of light zoomed towards William, who could only gape in astonishment. The light landed right on the tip of his nose, and when William squinted his eyes to better shield himself from the bright luminescence, his eyes widened.

William realized that this ball of light that was hovering over him was not so; it was a tiny little person—a miniature woman with iridescent gossamer wings wearing a forest-green dress composed of leaves and twigs that clung to her slight frame. Her skin had a golden sheen to it that seemed to shimmer and twinkle whenever she moved, her hair falling short just above her shoulders in flaxen, glossy strands. William could only gape.

"What is that thing?" William hissed, jerking his hands free from Peter's hold. He took a rickety step back, his foot sinking into a pillow. The ball of light only followed after him and perched itself on the tip of his nose yet again.

"Tink," Peter corrected. "Her name is Tinkerbell."

"What in the world is a Tinkerbell?" William asked while scrunching his nose in hopes to shake the little person off.

"She's a fairy."

"That's absurd!" William whispered tersely, shooting the other boy a glare. "I don't believe in- ." William was immediately cut off when a hand clamped over his mouth. The brunet opened his eyes and found Peter's face merely centimeters away from his own, the lad's grimy hand pressed tight over William's mouth.

"Don't say that," the taller boy said, his tone frigid and stern. William could smell the other's breath—it smelled of berries, and strangely enough, lemon grass.

"Don't ever say that." Peter continued, his fingers still fixed over William's mouth. The blonde's eyes were shining something fierce; it was a foreign look that seemed too grim and distant to grace the boy's countenance. Peter looked as if he were made to always have some sort of permanent, cocky smile to his face. Dispelling his thoughts, William only nodded as Peter retracted his hand.

"Alright Tink," the blond continued, placing his hands on his hips. Peter's demeanor had instantly changed from grave and solemn to cheerful and animated—how could someone's emotions change that quickly? This boy was an anomaly, whoever he was.

"By the way."

William arched an eyebrow at Peter, who now had his arms crossed over his chest, casting his eyes about the room. William could have sworn it looked as if he were searching for something, but what exactly?

"Do you by any chance happen to know the whereabouts of my shadow?" Peter concluded, his eyes still roving across the expanse of the nursery.

"W-what?" William blubbered, positively confounded. What in the world was this deranged boy talking about?

"You seem confused," Peter grinned, eyes finally anchoring on William's form once again. William arched an eyebrow.

"No, I believe _you_ are the one who is terribly, terribly confused," William sputtered, taking another step back. He heaved in a lungful of breath and smoothed down his nightgown. He then lifted his head and stuck his chin out, mustering an imposing façade. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to get to bed. If you'd be so kind as to leave…"

William tried to maintain his sham bravado, even going as far as jumping off the bed and gesturing for Peter to do the same; however, the look on the blonde's face was starting to grate at poor William's resolve. Why was Peter smiling at him so beguilingly?

A scuffling noise from the opposite side of the room caused both boys to quickly snap their heads towards the direction of the sound. Peter's smile stretched into a surprisingly wicked grin for one who had just been "charming" but a second ago. Before William had time to even question Peter's motives, Peter jumped into the air and zipped straight towards the opposite side of the room. William let out a gasp—Nathan!

William felt as if he were on autopilot. The next he thing he knew, he had rocketed off his bed and nearly flung himself across the nursery, throwing himself at the blond who was set into a low crouch, ready to pounce. Both boys plummeted to the ground, William's arms strung tight around the other's torso as they rolled along the floor. He could feel Peter's muscles tense beneath him, the taller boy clearly caught off guard.

"Don't go near him!" William hissed lowly, giving out a yelp when Peter suddenly rolled over and pinned the brunet beneath him. William thrashed his head from side to side, struggling to yank his wrists from Peter's hold, but the blonde's body-weight acted as an anchor. William tried and failed to throw Peter off him.

"Why'd you do that for, _boy_?" Peter whispered turbulently, leaning down so that his face was merely centimeters away from Willliam's. Peter's face was twisted into a scowl, his brow furrowed. "I could have caught him!"

"You were about to jump on my brother's bed!" William retorted.

"No I wasn't!" Peter hissed, harshly pressing his thumbs to the underside of William's wrists. William hissed in pain.

"Then what were you doing?" William tersely whispered.

"I was trying to catch my shadow!" Peter replied, exasperated. With the exclamation, Peter dropped William's wrists and pulled away from the shorter boy, scanning emerald eyes once more about the room. "He's in here somewhere, I can feel it."

"You're loony!" William cried, immediately sitting up and rubbing at his wrists. He fixed blue orbs to Peter's form as the blond stood up. "Now please leave! You're going to wake my- ."

"—shh."

William immediately snapped his mouth shut, although he didn't know why he even bothered. This was his room, his home, who did this Peter-fellow think he was? Just then, the little fairy from before, Tinkerbell, zoomed right in and hovered before Peter's face, gossamer wings trilling softly behind her.

"Under the bed, huh," Peter mumbled, pressing a finger to his chin. "Perfect." Peter rushed over to William, grabbing the boy from the floor by his arm. William was plucked from the floor with a cry, Peter dragging him towards one side of Nathan's bed.

"Guard this side," Peter commanded. The blond then spun on his heels and shouted a command to Tinkerbell. "Tink, you cover the bottom, and I'll get the other side."

"What are we doing?" William whispered frantically. His eyes landed on his brother's slumbering form, breathing a sigh of relief. At least Nathan was still sound asleep…

William furrowed his brow when Peter suddenly dropped to his hands and knees, his form lost behind the edge of the bed. Tinkerbell chimed and twinkled, her wings buzzing excitedly behind her.

And that's when something dark and cold rammed into William, knocking him to the floor. His chest and throat seemed to suddenly tighten, and his skin felt as if it were covered in a layer of frost.

He heard Peter let out a cry of victory.

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><p><strong>Tweekerz: I like Peter's shadow. <strong>

**Please review! OuO**


	4. Chapter 4

**Tweekerz: An update! Yes! More Peter/William slash.**

**On another note, this story isn't going to be a retelling of the book. I'll be basically making this up as I go, however, certain elements will be the same, like the mermaids, the pirates, the Indians, blah, just told differently, in a different sequence. There may even be new adventures in this! Iono.**

**Happy, slashy reading!**

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><p>William thrashed and kicked as he tumbled along the floor, his hands frantically scratching at his neck as he tried to pry off whatever was holding him. His fingers came across something that felt like…well, he couldn't quite describe it. It felt like mist, the kind of mist you find hovering over street ways in the early mornings, and it was dreadfully cold. William quickly jerked his hand away when his fingertips felt as if they had suddenly been scalded.<p>

"Peter!" William cried, the sound sticking fast in his throat. The skin along his neck felt as if it were burning, his teeth chattering animatedly about his mouth as he grunted in pain. As the "thing" continued to hold him, icy vapor clawing around his neck, William sensed that his entire body was beginning to turn numb. The longer he kicked his legs, the weaker the muscles in his calves and thighs became. Soon, he found himself completely still, his chest heaving and heaving as he tried to regain his breath.

He could hear Peter softly laughing in the background, the boy's airy laugh reverberating about the nursery. For a moment, a flare of white-hot anger welled up within William, so incredibly intense that he felt a tingling sensation course from the tip of his toes to his very head. How dare that beastly boy just stand there and laugh at his comatose state; couldn't Peter see that he was in dire need of assistance?

"Tink," Peter suddenly called out. In the next instant, William stared wide eyed up at Tinkerbell, who was now hovering over him, wings softly fluttering amid the air. The little fairy's body then underwent a tremendous shudder—William wondered if something had happened to her, but before he could ask, it began.

A shimmering veil of luminous golden powder fell from the fairy, the glittering dust caking William's entire body. As Tinkerbell continued to flutter her wings, the sparkling dust fell in an even greater wave. William sneezed a couple of times; shutting his eyes tight while he wrinkled his nose. He didn't even notice when the freezing mist around him suddenly seemed to stiffen and draw away, leaving William gasping along the floor. Using Nathan's bedpost for leverage, the brunet quickly shot up and scrambled towards Peter, who was merely standing beside the bed with fists pressed to his hips, a wry grin stretched along his lips.

"Are you _quite_ mad?" William hissed from his place on the floor, staring up at Peter incredulously.

"Yes," Peter simply smiled.

"What was that- !" William was cut off when a grimy finger pressed itself against his lips, effectively rendering him silent. Peter leaned down, looming over William, blond tufts of hair brushing across his forehead. He was still wearing that manic smile that unnerved the brunet to his very core.

"Now watch," Peter whispered, and drew away. He practically stomped the rest of the way towards Tinkerbell, who was still hovering over the spot where William had once lain. The sparkling dust was no longer falling from her body; however she was still very much glowing. William thought she would make a very excellent night light for little Nathan, but then he realized how utterly ridiculous he sounded. All this craziness was getting to his brain. After all this was over and done with, he'd have to bore himself with menial chores and school mathematics to get his mind working properly again.

In a sort of awe, William finally zeroed in on what Peter was standing before. William cast his eyes to the ground and widened his eyes—there was a shadow, an actual black shadow seemingly pasted to the ground, shimmering particles of dust and glitter keeping it in place. The shadow didn't move when Peter knelt down on one knee and grabbed it by its ankle, hauling the willowy thing up from the floor. Peter grinned and turned around fast on his heels, holding the shadow out in front of him. He shook the thing to and fro, golden dust flaking to the ground. William could only gape.

"That's your…that's your…by God. That's what it looks like," William mumbled stupidly. He had only ever known about this…this thing, this shadow, by the stories he heard and retold to his brother, the same went for Peter's fairy, Tinkerbell. Seeing all of them like this, Peter, Tinkerbell…his shadow, was enough to bring someone to insanity. One time, William remembered telling Nathan a particular story involving the shadow: Peter's shadow was a rebellious thing by nature and always liked to escape and run away when the boy wasn't looking. Oddly enough, the stories seemed to be true.

"What are you going to do with it?" William asked deftly. It seemed as if the words were just tumbling out of him unwillingly. If only he could fasten his mouth shut…

"Do you know how to sew?" Peter asked slowly. William raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not!" William nearly shouted, but then remembered that Nathan was still fast asleep. "Do I look like a girl to you?"

"A bit," Peter muttered softly. However soft it may have been, William still heard it, and was about to open his mouth to protest when Peter cut him off yet again.

"The others would sew it on," Peter continued, shuffling a couple of steps closer, still holding his shadow aloft. He smiled.

"Sew what on?"

"My shadow," Peter answered patiently.

"How in the world would someone do that? It's physically impossible!"

"It can be done. It's happened before. All the others were pretty eager to help me," Peter interrupted, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Others?" William asked, disgruntled by Peter's inflated ego.

"Did you not know that? You tell your brother stories of me every night; I would have thought you would- ."

"- wait," William stuck out a finger, furrowing his brow. He shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, and I don't know what you mean by 'others'. And have you been spying on us?" It was a frightening thing to find out. After all this time, there had been a strange boy listening outside while he told stories to his little brother. Yes, he would definitely have to shut all the windows now.

"Sometimes I visit the people in this world, like I'm doing now," Peter tilted his head.

"So other children have seen you?" William asked, astonished. Now, that was something that he definitely did not know about. Could there be other boys like himself who have been visited by the infamous Peter Pan? How come he had never heard of such stories? "Do you always barge into boys bedrooms unannounced?"

At this, Peter smiled cheekily. "Nope! You're actually the first boy."

William gaped and swallowed heavily. So Peter barged into _girls'_ bedrooms unannounced?

"So then…" William started. "…if you know what to do when your shadow escapes, why not just carry a needle and thread in Neverland?"

"I've tried it once, but I always tend to forget the method," Peter replied, licking his lips.

"Oh, I see," William mumbled. To tell the truth, that seemed rather pathetic. "Then how do you reattach the shadow in your world?"

Peter seemed to mull over William's question, and then answered with a shrug of the shoulders, "I simply will it."

William blinked his eyes owlishly, at a loss of what to say, however Peter saved William the trouble of responding by waving a hand at him. William coasted his eyes about the room, as if Peter could possibly be waving at someone else, but after realizing how ridiculous he was being, William pointed at himself. Peter smiled and nodded.

"You're gonna' help me tie my shadow on," Peter commanded, jostling the shadow to prove his point.

"No I'm not!" William fired back, scrambling up from the floor. He stood stock-still, hands pressed to his sides while his hands fisted into his night gown.

"Yes you are!" Peter laughed. "I can't very well do it myself."

"No!" William protested, stomping his foot. "No, no, no! I have no idea what's going on here, and frankly I don't even know if I'm still dreaming or hallucinating. If I am hallucinating, then what would mother and father think? They'll probably send me straight to a looney bin, that's what! And—mmmf!"

William was abruptly cut off when a finger pressed to his lips, effectively silencing him. William stared cross-eyed down at the grubby digit—he hadn't even seen Peter cross the distance between them!

"You talk too much," Peter mumbled wryly, grinning. He took a step back, retracting his finger, and jerked his shadow. The inky mist flailed for a second, before stiffening once more. If William didn't know any better, he would have thought the thing had been temporarily petrified.

"Why isn't it moving anymore?" William asked slowly, eyes still locked on the shadow.

"Hmm," Peter hummed, rubbing at his chin. "Pixie dust has certain properties…"

"What kinds of properties?"

"I don't know," Peter shrugged. He gave William a look. "Has anyone ever told you that you ask far too many questions?"

_Yes_, William wanted to say, but of course he wasn't going to tell Peter that. William decided to lie instead. "No."

"Well then, are you going to help me or not?" Peter egged. He began wriggling his shadow back and forth, pixie dust sprinkling across the floor. "It's not going to tie itself, you know."

"Why can't you just hold it like that until you get back to Neverland?" William suggested.

"He'll escape! He's done it before," Peter replied, furrowing his brow.

"Then why can't Tinkerbell help you tie it?" William muttered, peering at Peter through his fringe.

"She's too small!" This earned an angry chime of bells from said fairy, in which Peter promptly apologized. William shifted his weight about his feet, eyes cast to the floor. He noticed a few stains riddling the ground, and his thoughts briefly zipped to that of his younger brother—Nathan was always making such a mess. The child couldn't go a day without spilling something, or breaking something, or generally causing havoc. William wondered if he had been that meddlesome when he was a small child.

"Fine, I'll help, but on one condition," William began, reluctantly shuffling the rest of the way over. From where he was standing, William could smell an earthy, cloying scent—the scent of leaves. It was a surprisingly pleasant smell.

"And what is this condition?" Peter cocked his head.

"As soon as I'm done, you'll return to wherever you came from," William concluded, nodding his head. _Because I am very tired and all I want to do is sleep,_ he wanted to add. "So how exactly am I supposed to help?" William stood there, waiting for Peter to respond. The silence was very stifling, so palpable that William couldn't help but fidget and look up. He found Peter staring at him with the oddest expression on his face. The blond seemed to be puzzled.

"What?" William queried, arching a brow. Peter continued to stare at him for a second or two, before blinking and shaking his head.

"That's strange," Peter mumbled, subconsciously slinging his shadow over his shoulder. "The others practically begged me to stay, or take them. Or both."

William reared his head back. "So not only do you barge into girls bedrooms unannounced, but you kidnap them as well? And I'm a different case entirely—I'm a boy!"

"I don't kidnap."

William quickly snapped his mouth shut. That steely hardness seemed to have seeped into Peter's voice once more. There was a feral glint to the blonde's eyes, where that had once been nothing but cunning and charm. Again, William was amazed at how fast Peter's moods seemed to change. Was this really the same person?

"I take them willingly, and I always return them," Peter continued, his voice low. "Understand?"

William gulped and deftly nodded. He coughed. "Alright then, what do I do?"

"Help me tie his legs together," Peter supplied. He firmly grabbed hold of the shadow's neck and flipped the thing around, using his other hand to bind the hands together. He then turned to Tinkerbell. "Tink, you mind?"

The little fairy chimed a merry tune and quickly zoomed towards the shadow, flying in a rapid circular motion around it. Golden pixie dust fluttered from her wings and rained down upon the shadow, coating the black mist with a thick layer of gold. Peter smiled and nodded, satisfied that the shadow was now completely paralyzed. William was too busy marveling at the shadow to notice that both Peter and Tinkerbell were waiting for William to hurry up and do his part. He snapped himself out of his haze and sheepishly looked up at a frowning Peter, who was impatiently tapping his bare foot on the ground.

"S-sorry," William whispered, taking a step forward. He outstretched his hands, but halted, letting his fingers wriggle through the air. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this. Did he simply have to grab the shadow's legs, just like that? Were there certain precautions he'd have to take before handling the thing? If it was anything like the last time, the shadow would surely freeze his hands, wouldn't it? Willliam gasped when he felt warm fingers wrap around his wrist, gently tugging them along.

Peter had grabbed a hold of his wrists, guiding William's hands towards the shadow's legs. "Tie it like you would string," Peter whispered, looking up at William through thick, golden lashes. William could only nod and do as he was told. He grabbed at the mist, surprised when the cold didn't immediately singe him. He then caught hold of the shadow's legs and pulled, working the mist with his fingers. The shadow was very malleable and cold to the touch—it felt as if he were pulling and stretching water, but that wasn't very well possible. He couldn't describe the sensation any other way. When William was done with his task, he took a step back and watched as Peter grabbed at the mist and tied the shadow around his waist like a belt. William grimaced—that looked quite painful for the shadow, but he wasn't about to protest.

"So then," Peter began, placing his hands at his hips. He shot William a languid smile. "I'll be taking my leave."

"Good riddance," William muttered.

"What?"

"I am sad to see you go," William quickly corrected, averting his eyes elsewhere.

"Then come away with me." The way Peter said this left William unnerved. Peter's head was slightly cast down, green eyes peering through thick, jagged bangs. The boy took a step forward, clasping his hands behind his back. He began to slink around William, circling the boy.

William nearly choked, warily watching Peter from the corners of his eyes. "W-what?"

"Come with me to Neverland," Peter elaborated, leaning forth on his toes. He halted. "It'll be fun!"

"No! That's absurd!" William fired back, fisting his hands at his sides. There was no way he was going to go with some complete stranger he had just met regardless if it was the famed Peter Pan, and surely, Neverland was impossible to get to, wasn't it? Well, at least for him anyway. Peter could fly; William could not.

"Please."

William felt warm hands at his back, fingers prodding and poking along his spine. He found himself moving forward toward his open window, his bare feet padding along the floor. Peter was pushing him forward.

"You'll like it," Peter whispered. William could feel the boy's breath ghost along the shell of his ear.

"Will I?" William breathed, his knees knocking against the window seat. He could feel the cool breeze flutter in from outside, the frosty chill of the air nipping at his skin. It felt wonderful. He peered over the window sill and looked down at the empty streets, eyes locking on a lamp post that was flickering off and on, sidewalk-trees swaying along with the breeze. The star glittered up above, blanketed by thin clusters of clouds.

"Yes!" Peter replied enthusiastically. He then hopped onto the window seat and offered his hand, softly bouncing up and down on his heels. "Come on then."

William gaped up at him. He stared at Peter's proffered hand, his fingers twitching at his sides. He didn't want to touch it, by God, he didn't—he shouldn't, but there was some desperate nagging feeling inside of him that was telling him to do the exact opposite. This was Neverland they were talking about! _The _Neverland, traveling along with _the_ Peter Pan! He wouldn't ever get this chance again, and seeing as he wasn't getting any younger, he thought he might as well live out the rest of his childhood brazenly. Oh, this wasn't going to end well.

William grabbed hold of Peter's hand, feeling the blonde's fingers tighten around his palm. Peter was practically beaming. William was tugged up onto the window seat alongside the boy, his hand still clasped within Peter's. William looked outside once more, his knees beginning to knock together.

"You won't let go of me, will you?" William whispered, staring at the ground outside. There was a small pause.

"Umm….no," Peter answered slowly. William didn't like the sound of that, but he didn't have the chance to think any more on the matter when something harshly pushed at his back. William gasped and careened forward, his foot snagging along the window sill. His heart caught in his throat when his body didn't stop—he was teetering forward, his body was almost half-way out the window, and then…

…he was falling.

* * *

><p><strong>Tweekerz: Peter did it! That is all. Please review my lovelies! Please! OuO<strong>


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